Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 46 of 50
January 7, 2007

Compiled by: Matthew Monroe

Archived at:

Contains 849 versions of the classic poem, including headers from most of the posts and credits when available. The versions range from innocent and cute to vulgar and obscene, so read at your own discretion. I have collected most of these versions by searching the newsgroups using Google Groups and the now retired Deja News. I'd be happy to receive any additional versions you might have.

See the Main Index for the complete contents.


Short Title: StBobafett(StarwarsMisc)

   Author:   Kentaro P Maeda
   Email: kentaro@Hawaii.Edu
   Date: 1998/12/24
   Forums: rec.arts.sf.starwars.misc
I'm sure it's been done many times, many ways,
But here's my X-Mas parody, in time for the holidays


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the stars
Things were all right, except for some wars;
The stockings were hung in my smuggling freighter,
In hopes that St. Bobafett would stop by here later;

The clients were nestled all snug in my ship
(They promised 17 thou for an Alderaan trip);
My first mate in fur and I in my vest
Napped, eager for the pay from our guests.

When out on the hull there arose such a buzz,
I checked the ship's sensors to see what the deal was.
I picked up visual scanning and looked into space,
Pressing against the canopy the nose on my face.

The stars in the distance lightened the Falcon in motion,
Making things brighter than a TIE fighter explosion,
When, what to my wondering eyes looked upon,
But an elephant-looking ship, and eight tiny taun-tauns,

With a masked, armored pilot, if I were to bet,
I would in a flash have said it was Fett.
More rapid than speeders, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

Now, Johnny! now, Ralphie! now Benny, and Gary!
On Irvin! on Frankie! on Richie, and Larry!
To the top of the Falcon! to the ship's quadrant rear!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away near!"

As mynocks onto your ship they will hug,
Whenever you're in the intestines of a giant space slug,
So on to the Falcon the tauntauns they flew,
With a cargo hold of toys, and St. Bobafett too.

And then, on the hull, I heard the beasts walk about
(They smell worse on the inside than they do on the out).
As I left the cockpit and snuck through the lounge,
In the exhaust port St. Bobafett came with a bound.

Accentuating his armor were a red velvet cloak,
a hat, and two gloves (all were blackened by smoke);
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
Careful not to set off his touchy jet pack.

His mask -- it was weathered! His cape was all torn!
His boots had small holes, his pants were all worn!
While his bounty hunting skills left much to be desired,
One who gives gifts and good cheer must be admired.

He downed the blue milk and wolfed all the cookies
That were set there for him by me and the Wookiee,
He sure loved dessert, since he sported a gut
That shook when he mumbled, like a certain vile Hutt.

He clumsily sneaked, without right jolly old guile,
So I let loose a sheepish grin, in true Harrison style;
His glance towards me, his salute as I peeked,
Soon gave me to know 'twas not bounty he seeked;

He murmered a bit, that guy so laconic,
While filling the stockings with gadgets 'lectronic.
Then laying his finger aside his trademark mask "T",
And giving a nod, out the exhaust port he fleed;

Towards the stars he then flew, only without his starship;
His jet pack had fired 'cause the Unlucky One had tripped!
I heard him cry out -- though effeminately like Ma --

Ken Maeda                           University of Hawaii-Manoa
                 "Hate... leads to suffering!"
           "Kermit the Frog, you are just adorable!"


Short Title: SteveSaka

Subject:      A Steve Saka Xmas
From:         cw834@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Mark Korchinski)
Date:         1997/12/17
Message-ID:   <6790ch$7hc$1@alexander.INS.CWRU.Edu>
Newsgroups:   alt.smokers.cigars

  In the spirit of his Xmas funk message I present the following.
  (normally I post from my account but
  they're replacing a harddrive). My supreme apologies to real poets

Twas the week before Christmas and in his tense house
Steve Saka wandered around like a grouch

The humidors were checked with the greatest of care
In the hopes JR's package soon would be there

When from out of the house there arose such a clatter
Saka took down his shotgun and saw what was the matter

What to his wondering eyes did appear
But a brown UPS truck pulled by Joe's Towing rig gear

"My transmission blew and my wife says I'm late
so you better tip well if you want this box, mate."

His brown suit was stained with grease from the truck
and his beer belly hung from his belt like a schmuck

He tossed the cigar box with the hardest of throws
and with a wild bounce split open into a pile of wet snow

Saka pulled up the shotgun with a loud mighty roar
Started blasting holes in the UPS truck door

BLAM "Gone Fonseca" BLAM "Gone Partagas" BLAM "Gone Punch
and La Gloria" BLAM "Gone Arturo and Davidoff and Upmann
and Belinda".

As the poor UPS man went ran wildly in fear
Steve started to chuckle loudly..."Oh dear"

Sirens began wailing in the dead of the night
But he felt pretty good. Everything was alright

This might not be a good day as good days they go
But it brought up the spirit blasting some greedy schmoe

He struck up a Cohiba and proceed to puff
His spirits had risen. He no longer felt gruff

As neighbors watched him hauled away in the night
Steve was heard to exclaim "Cuban Punches for all
and my wife has a light".

--Mark K.

 "I never let my schooling get in the way of my education."
  Mark Twain


Short Title: Stoner

From: stoney (
Subject: Re: OT: Grinch Carols 
Newsgroups: alt.atheism
Date: 2002-12-22 14:36:42 PST 

 It's an old psychodelic christmas card from the 70's
 Too bad this is a nonbinary newsgroup as the drawings really make
 the card.  If someone wants to put it on their webpage, I'll scan
 the card.

'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house,
Things were real mellow....
Even Irving, the Mouse.

{mouse in house sighs looking out the window)

Our boots were hung up,
the incense was lit,
In hope that St. Nick
would soon do his bit.

The tree was decked out;
It was really a sight,
With love beads and flowers
And a flashing strobe light

(cat wearing shades looks at the strobe lite and says; "Like WOW!")

Wearing my T-shirt
From Woodstock Nation,
I was getting into some 
good meditation.


And my chick was doing some Yoga
in bed,
Munching a fruit cake,
while propped on her head.


Then...POW!!! the night...
....a hullabaloo!

(WHA? Wha? Wha? says the dude, chick and dog)

It shook the waterbed
and woke up Old Blue.
I stumbled around
and tripped on my beard.
It stuck to my toes and felt really wierd.

(guy looks down at toes...cartoon balloon says "wierd.")

When I got to the window,
I was really uptight,
'Cause the scene I perceived
Was a mind-blowing sight!
What through my shades
did I see through the snow,
but eight tiny mooses
and a wild U.F.O.!

(dude wearing shades looks out window)

(drawing of the ufo being pulled by the mooses)

With this hip dude inside,
looking kinky and groovy...
I flashed..."If this ain't Nick,
It must be the late movie."

(side drawing of nick in the sleigh with scarf fluttering out the
back like in WWI fighter plane.  The sleigh has a hard top on it)

They blew in from the cosmos
like some far-out caboose
and this Fat Cat kept yelling
at each midget moose.
"Right On, Dasher!  On, Dancer!
Get your bods in high gear, now
and move this machine!"

(Nick, wearing shades and red cap pointing a finger at the mooses)

Then onto the roof
they flew with a shout,
the whole Kosmic Crew
really freaked me out!
They caused such a hassle
and made such a fuss,
I thought someone would call
the fuzz down on us.
But before I could say, "COOL IT!...
Nick zapped toward the chimney 
and leaped in with a dive!

(dude looking up at the roof as the ensamble swoop in)

As he trucked from the fireplace,
his smile all agleam,
I thought, "IT'S UNREAL!
It must be a dream!"
Then he nodded and said, 
"This ain't a bummer...
Like, I've come in peace, 
to groove my Yule Number."

(Santa with threads and peace sign medallion strides)

His duds were all fur,
Trimmed in leather and such
and he came on Stone Funky...
...He was really too much.
His back-pack was painted 
with black-light festoon,
Full of albums and posters
and a neon baloon.

(nick's backpack is pink and has daisy's on it)
(dude thinking "heavy' as he's handed some psychodellic albums)

His eyes, a light show!
His beard, da-glow bright!
A plastic, fantastic,
Kaleidoscope sight!
He looked like a guru,
this beautiful cat...
...I thought, like, wow!...
this dude knows where it's AT!

(close up of a grinning nick's face and kaleidoscope eyes)

"Don't want to sound heavy,"
He said with a grin,
"My message is simple
So dig it...tune in."
"I brought you some goodies,
but that's not the thing.
My real trip is bringing 
good vibes to this scene."

(nick with a grin and raised index finger..dude saying "Right ON!"
and the chick saying "GROOVY!")

So we rapped until dawn
about Peace, Love, and Truth,
Then he said; "Gotta split, now, 
or I'll be late in Duluth!"
And he wiggled his nose and said;
"I did my bit"
and stright up the smoke hole
that Fat Cat did split!

(nick's feet showing at the fireplace as he "ZAP's up")

As he sped from the roof
and into the air,
He shouted; "Let's get it together,
all you people down there!
Merry Christmas to all 
and to all a Good Night!"
And then in a flash,
he streaked out of sight!!!
(really out of sight)

(cue wormhole/warp type of thing)

BTW this was a Hallmark card.  I had spotted it many years ago at a
local drug store in the Detroit area and bought it.

"Designated Rascal and Rapscallion


Short Title: StRex(UtahStatePresident)


"A Visit from St. Rex"
by Eric D. Snider
Published in The (Provo, Utah) Daily Herald on December 19, 1992 

	Explanation: As a freshman at BYU, I have recently become acquainted 
	with two hot topics: dorm room inspection, and President Lee's 
	admonition that we quit piddling around and graduate in four years. So 
	in honor of these two ideas, here's a little Christmas poem I stole. 

"A Visit from President Rex E. Lee"
(with apologies to whoever wrote "A Visit from St. Nicholas")

'Twas the week before Christmas when all through the "Y"
The students were leaving, and saying goodbye.
Their bags were all packed and their airplanes reserved;
Results of their finals had made them unnerved.
They all headed home to their families and friends
While visions of graduating danced in their heads.

But I stayed a day more in Deseret Towers
("Where Cold is the Water in All of the Showers").
I had a few holiday columns to write 
Before I could catch my Los Angeles flight.

When out in the hall there arose such a yell
I sprang from my desk and I said, "What the hell?"
I rushed to the door and I flung it wide open
(Knowing it wasn't a girl, but still hopin'),
When who down the hall should quickly come stormin'
But a guy in a suit who looked rather Mormon.
He carried a sack and his face was perplexed --
I knew in a moment it must be St. Rex.

The Board of Trustees was there, all dressed the same
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Hey, Brigham! Hey, Parley! Hey, Orson and Ether!
Hey, Wilford! Lorenzo! Hey, Lyman and Heber!
Get out of the elevator, come down the hall!
Now hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up, all!"

They knew what to do and they got quickly to it.
They entered my room and began to search through it.
They looked through my stuff, both above and below,
Looking for signs that my standards were low.
If they turn up something, you don't get it back:
It quickly gets tossed into St. Rex's sack.
They looked through my very large music collection
(I'm afraid my Madonna didn't pass the inspection).
Some books were found dirty when scrutinized next --
I had to point out they were BYU texts.

When they were done searching for items obscene
I asked old St. Rex, "Please, sir, what does this mean?"
He said, "Kids must concentrate just on their learning
Or else their diplomas they'll never be earning.
Folks get accepted and once they get here,
They don't ever leave for another six years.
So others can't enter, no matter how clever,
Because the ones here just don't graduate -- ever!
We have to make sure that our students are free
To study whatever their subjects might be.
To do that, we go and we fill up this sack
With anything we think might somehow distract."

I thanked him for coming and censoring me
He shook my hand warmly (so did the Trustees).
So then they all left, but I heard St. Rex shout:
"Merry Christmas to all, and in four years -- GET OUT!!"

(Eric D. Snider -- a freshman, we'll warn ya --
Comes from Lake Elsinore, in California.) 

 Copyright © Eric D. Snider.


Short Title: SwedishClellanCard1

(suggested by Jim Bolland)

The Night Before Christmas

A Parody Done in Swedish Dialect by Clellan Card on the
Northrup, King & Co's. Christmas Program
December 23, 1938

It vas de night before Xmas, ven all tru de place vere I vas staying
Dere vasn't nobody making no noise, not eefen som mouses
except my brudder-in-law and he is a rat.
De stockings vere hanged by de shimney kinda careful
Because dat feller vit de red knickers vas supposed to be dere.

De little shavers vas all snug in dere beds
Vile visions of sugar plums vas dancing in dere heads
And mama in her curlers and ay in my night shirt
Had yust vashed our feet for a long vinter's nap.

Ven out on de Northrup, King lawn dere arose a heck of a noise
Ay yumped out of may bed to see if it vas de boys,
Avay to de vindow ay flew like a flash
Ay coulda made it faster but ay'd yust ate some hash.

De Moon vas shining on de new snow wot had yust come down
And it vas kinda shining like it vasn't night
And vat to my vondering eyes should appear
But a teeney-weeney sleigh and eight tiny horses.

Dere vas a tiny little driver - so sudden and quick
Ay could tell right avay in may night shirt it was yolly St. Nick
More faster dan eagles his horses dey came
And he whistled and hollered and called em bad names.

Now hasher - now trasher - now vixer - now prancer
On Cosmetics - On Stupid - On Visconsin - On Pittsburg
To de top of de porch to de top of de vall
Now pass avay, pass avay, pass out for cat's sake!

And in two shakes of a skunk's tail ay heard on de roof
Dose animals monkeying around mit dere feet
As ay sucked in may head and tripped over de cat
Down de shimney came Santa Claus flat on his back.

He vas fat as a old hog - right yolly old elf
And ay laughed ven ay seen him - ay couldn't help it.
A vink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know ay didn't have nothin to vorry about.

Vat vas left of his pipe he held in his tooth
And de smoke wrapped around his head like a hoop.
He was qvite broad in places - he had a round little belly
Dat shook ven he'd snicker - like a bottle of likker.

His eyes dey vas glassy - his suit vas de berries,
His cheeks vas like roses - his nose like some Cherries
His droll little mouth vas drawed up like a bow
And de beard on his chin dragged down in de snow.

He didn't say nothin - but vent straight to his verk
And put lots of pretty stuff in de hosiery and turned vit a squirt
And putting his fingers in front of his nose
He says - "You know me Kids" and, holy smoke! he vas gone.

He yumped in his big open yob, and to his team gave a vistle
he had promised em for Christmas
And dey yumped up and ran like dey had sat on some tistles
Ay heard him say as he scrammed out of dere
"A Snappy Christmas to all and to all - Ay hope yu get vat yu vant."


Short Title: SwedishClellanCard2

(suggested by Jim Bolland)

Axel's famous version of
The Night Before Christmas
(recorded in 1964 on the Minneapolis/St. Paul TV show "Axel and His Dog")


AXEL: Hi, kids! Diss iss Axel, sending Christmas greetin's to all of you,
all the way from the Tree House! Now, have a nice holiday season, won't
you kids, hah? Oh, say - there's someone else here who wants to send
Christmas wishes. Oh, uh, Carmine!

CARMEN: Yes, Axel! I'm out in the kitchen making oatmeal Christmas cookies.

AXEL: Well, come out here on the Tree House porch and say hi to alla da
kids, and say - bring me one of those oatmeal cookies, will ya?

CARMEN: O-kay. Here's one of my cookies, Axel. Hi there, boys and girls.
I want each and every one of you to have the merriest Christmas ever,
you hear? Okay?

AXEL: Uh, say, Carmine, I don't want to dampen your Christmas spirits
but aren't dese oatmeal cookies a little soggy?

CARMEN: They're supposed to be - I haven't baked them yet.

AXEL: Oh, well, they sure ain't the way Gramma used to make 'em anyways.
Say, let me know when dey're all cooked, will ya, and I'll help you lift
'em outta da oven. (laughs)

CARMEN: (laughs) Say, your Grandma Torgeson is someone very special,
isn't she, Axel?

AXEL: She sure is, Carmine. You know, I remember each Chrissmoose she
used to get us all gaddered around the fireplace and tell us in her own
special way the Night Before Christmas story. Would you like to hear it
the way Gramma used to tell it, Carmine?

CARMEN: Oh, I'd like that very much, Axel.

AXEL: All right. Sit down next to me now and listen real good.

Axel's famous version of
The Night Before Christmas

Was the night before Chris'moose
When all through the place I was stayin' at
There wasn't nobody makin' no noises, not even some mouses
Except my brooder-in-law, and he is a rat!

The stockings was hung by the schimney kinda careful-like
Because the fella wid dose red knickers was s'posed to get dere!
The monsters was tucked all snug in their beds
While wisions of sugar plums dance in their heads.

Mama in her curlers and me in my nightshirt
Had just washed our feet for a long winter's nap.
When out on the grass dere rose a heck of a noise
I yumped outta my bed to see if it was the boys!

Over to the window I flew like a flash
(I coulda made it faster but I was fulla mama's hash).
The moon was shining on the new snow what had just come down
And it was shining kinda like it wasn't night

When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a teensy-weensy sleigh and eight teensy-weensy reinhorses!
There was a tiny little driver, so sudden and quick
I could tell right away in my goosepimples - it was yolly Saint Nick.

More faster dan eagles, his horses they came
And he whistled and hollered and called 'em all names:
Now Hasher, now Trasher, now Victor, now Prancin'!
On, Tackhead! On, Stupid! Onnnnn, 'Sisconsin!

To da top of da porch, to da top of da wall
Now dash away, dash away!
Would you reinhorses please get da heck up on da wall,
If you don't mind please?

Then in two shakes of a wildcat's tail
I heerd those aminals monkeyin' around wid their hoofs
As I sucked in my head and tripped over the pewsycat
Down the schimney come Santa Claus - flat on his back.

He was a fat old fella, right yolly old elf
And I laughed when I seen him - I couldn't help it.
A vink of his eye and a tvist of his neck
Soon give me to know I deent have nothin' to worry about.

What was left of his pipe he held in his toot'
And his smoke wrap'd around his head like a hoop
He was quite broad in places, and he had a round little belly
That shook when he giggle like a bowlful of yelly.

His eyes they was glassy, his suit was the berries
His scheeks was like roses and his nose like a scherry
His droll little mouth was drawed up like a bow
And da beard on his schin dragged clean down in da snow.

He deent say nothin' but went straight to his werk
And filled up the hosiery and turned wid a squirt
And pewtin' his fingers alongside of his nose
He says, "Have a good time, schildren!"
And up the shimney he goes - psssshhht!

He yumped in his sleigh and to his team gave a vhistle
They yumped up and ran like they sat on a tistle!
I heard him say as he scrammed outta dere
"A Merry Christmas to all, and to all Good Night!"


Short Title: Syntek


Syntek Night Before Christmas
 by Peter Mansbach
 Refers to Syntek System Corporation:
 following Clement Moore

'Twas at night after closing, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept Mulligan's mouse.
The cables were strung from the rooftop with care,
In hopes that our microwave link would be there.

Some programmers nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pure object-oriented programs danced in their heads.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
Performance enhancements - do bugs still lurk?

The program was tested again and again,
By Sandel, and others, Ruan and Yuen.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter!

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a tiny PC, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be John Wielgosz.

Impressing the client, the programmers hustled,
And he urged and cajoled them by name as he bustled:
"Now, Chatters! now, Shetty! Alonzo and Ruan!
On, Sandel! on, Seaman! on Mansbach and Yuen!

To the very next milestone, to the end of the task,
Then, dash away, dash away invoices fast!"
So up to the top floor the programmers flew,
Their arms full of timesheets - with signatures, too!

John's eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry,
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow:
"Look! all these invoices ready to go!"

And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"A profit-share to all, and to all a good night!"


Short Title: Tardis(DrWho)

Subject:      Happy Solstice, Christmas, Hannukah, etc to all....
From: (Siobahn Morgan)
Date:         1997/12/20
Message-ID:   <>
Newsgroups:   rec.arts.drwho,alt.drwho.creative

A Tardis Christmas by Siobahn Morgan (With apologizes to Clement C. Moore)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the continuum,
Not a chronovore was stirring, for time ad infinituum.
The brolly was hung at the consule with care,
In hopes that Rassilon's blessings soon would be there.

Ace was tucked all snug in her bed,
As visions of glycerine danced through her head,
And the Doctor in his study, purusing through his journal
Had just settled in for a time seemingly eternal.

When from the consule room there arose such a racket
That Ace jumping up so quickly, nearly forgot her jacket.
Away to the control room they ran like a flash,
Turning the corner in a mad Charlie Chaplin dash.

The gleam from the central column was clear and bright,
So that the intruders were easily in sight.
When what in the consule room their eyes did behold,
But a collection of enemies, some new and some old.

The glint of metal on the casing was a recognizable hue,
That they knew in an instant who was leading the dangerous crew.
Davros' voice grew louder above the din,
As he called on the other villians to come within:

"On Cybermen, on Yeti, on Zarbi and Sontarons,
On Zygons, on Mandrells, on Fenric and Autons,
To the home of the Doc-tor, down that dark hall,

Such a horrible sight to their eyes did meet,
That the Doctor and Ace beat a hasty retreat.
And to the workshop with all haste they flew,
As the Doctor hopefully would think of something to do.

The monsters just laughed and increased their attack,
As Ace ran on to get her Nitro-9 ladden back-pack.
The Doctor took in his plight and looked around,
And Ace set up barricades to hold steady their ground.

Then the evil creatures, with Davros in tow,
Neared the workshop to try and defeat their hated foe.
"One moment!" cried the Doctor, "Just one moment please!"
To which Fenric replied, "Doctor, on your knees!"

"But don't you see," continued the Doctor, "This is all wrong!"
To which the Sontarons answered, "Yes, Doctor, but not for long."
"I surrender, I surrender!" the Doctor cried most adament,
To which the Cyberleader replied in his deep synthetic voice "Excellent!"

As they scoffed at his words, and surrounded their prey,
The villians savored his doom and their victory that day.
"We'll waste no more time," Davros said, "And we'll destroy you with glee"
And then we'll destroy your home world, the hated Gallifrey!"

The Doctor was anxious and worried about his fate,
Hoping the calvery would arrive soon, and not a minute too late.
"For you Davros, the victory will be quite sour
For you have sealed your own doom within the hour!

For Cybermen I have many gold bombs laid out in traps
And for you others, various things to keep you under wraps.
And if that is not enough to destroy your little coup
I can just bring in some executives from the dread BBC too.

They are more fierce than the greatest evil mind,
for they can instantly cancel you and all of your kind!"
Then he sprang to his feet with a curious look on his face
And playing some spoons, disappeared from the place.

With cans of Nitro, Ace blasted the aliens from sight,
"Oi! Happy Christmas to all, and to all a wicked night!"


Short Title: Teacher

Subject:      Teacher night before Christmas
From: (Judy)
Date:         1997/12/21
Message-ID:   <67hujj$>
Newsgroups:   alt.jokes.limericks

I wrote this at midnight trying to finish up my baking gifts.

  Night Before Christmas       (Thanks for good Teachers)
  by Judy Bartlett

Twas the week before Christmas
and all thru the night
I baked for the teachers
till dawns early light

I measured and stirred
and measured some more...
Did not even top
to wipe up the floor.

A mess I did make, but
had not a care,
That I loked like a cook
With a net in my hair.

I smiled as I stirred a big bowl of fudge
Cause I knew that each teacher
Would soon have a pudge.

A thought crossed my mind
AS I packed up this stuff
To show how I feel
Would this be enough?

To know that your child
when at school is so happy
To show she is learning
means her teachers aren't crappy.

A gift from the heart
fills this plate just for you
Its a way to say thanks
for the things that you do

The impressions you make
on a child such as mine
Stick with us all
a whole life long time

And at 12:30 am
I'm still in here bakin'
Writin' silly things
while my back is a achin'

A merry Christmas to you
that comes from within
You can open your plate,
don't wait to begin!

One final thought as your're trying to pick
If I smell much more chocolate,
I'm gonna be SICK!!!


Short Title: TechnologyToys

Originally published in:
Chapel Hill Herald
Sunday, December 24, 2000
Edition: Final
Page: 5

A traditional Christmas poem, with some updates
by Neil Offen, Columnist

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house 
not a creature was stirring, not even my track-ball mouse. 

The stockings were hung by the DVD with care 
because the VCR was in need of repair. 
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
while visions of PlayStation 2 danced in their heads. 

My wife in her sweats and I in a daze 
looked to make sure we had enough AAAs. 
We had batteries for this and other batteries about, 
but did we have enough if the power strip burnt out? 

We put the red ribbon on the Sony Trinitron, 
exactly as directed by the CD-ROM. 
The Discman and flatbed scanner were set, 
just like they had told us on the Internet. 

The disks were prepared and dutifully floppy, 
although we couldn't find them because we were sloppy. 
The digital cameras and zip drives sat there resplendent 
the laser jet printer was totally transcendent. 

We uplinked and downloaded all through the night, 
to make sure we had the terminology just right. 
We checked all the Web sites and used the search engines, 
we clattered on the keyboard with a fearsome vengeance. 

Then suddenly on the deck, next to the gas grill, 
there was a loud sound that gave us a real chill. 
I went to look to check out the clatter, 
to see if something was wrong with my data, 

when what to my pixel-ated eyes should appear, 
but a mixed-media sleigh and eight remote-controlled reindeer. 
I knew in an instant after checking the fax 
that St. Nick was here with his battery packs. 

And then in a twinkling I saw from my futon 
that poor old Santa didn't have his red suit on. 
His eyes were all watery and his countenance rueful, 
he looked like last year's dot com, no longer youthful. 

I asked the old elf why his mouth was a frown, 
he said, so sadly, his Palm Pilot was down. 
There will be no gifts tonight, he added apace, 
"I have no spreadsheets nor my database." 

What could we do if Santa tonight missed? 
The fate of our children was as shaky as a satellite dish. 
We thought and thought of what we were able 
before deciding to get on the fiber-optic cable. 

We dialed up AOL and tuned in to our news groups, 
we even used our real name and said we'd jump through hoops. 
Finally, we got advice from someone who told us, 
from someone who knew Windows Me and even Lotus. 

Santa, we were told, could do it by hand. 
He wasn't a slave of a high-frequency band. 
He didn't need an iMac or an IBM clone, 
he didn't need a 56K modem or a cellular phone. 

All he needed was a big sack and lots of good cheer 
to ring in the season, to make our monitor clear. 
His eyes now they twinkled, his smile gleamed so brightly! 
His voice mail was solid, his e-mail quite sprightly. 

He sprang to his sleigh, the reindeer came near; 
he started cruise control while still in first gear. 
I heard him exclaim as he cruised out of sight, 
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good byte." 

Readers may e-mail Neil Offen at or write to him at The Chapel Hill Herald, 106 Mallette St., Chapel Hill, NC 27516. 


Short Title: TechSupport

Subject:  Twas the night before christmas
Date: 12/07/1999
Author: holiday 

Twas the night before christmas,
and all through my cube,
20 lusers on hold,
including some boob.

He can't FTP,
or Telnet he said,
"It worked fine last night,
before I went to bed."

And out in the bars,
a few Bobs were still drinking,
and hoping that strong liquor
would stop all their thinking.

And there at my desk,
where I had been pacing,
and dreading the calls
I soon would be facing.

My cubemate was pissed off,
his phone off the hook,
and my comments to him
just got dirty looks.

I drank all the coffee,
left there in the pot,
I didn't give a shit
that my nerves were all shot.

I'd smoked 15 cigarettes,
but my thoughts still muddy,
with thoughts of some luser,
all cut up and bloody.

"My password won't work,"
he said,and I shivered.
It's December 15th
All bills are delivered.

I sat there and wondered
why life was so cruel,
and I wished I had studied
to be a dentist in school.

When out in the break room,
there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk
to see what was the matter.

When all of a sudden,
our door opened wide,
and our pointy haired boss
Ambled inside.

Her eyes were aflame,
Her teeth were all yellow,
and then she exploded,
and started to bellow:

"What's with these call logs,
40 calls in the queue?
Get your shit in one bag
or I'm firing you!"

She had vodka-glazed eyes,
and a butt like a bubble.
a little black mustache,
with boss shit on the stubble.

Her assistant jumped in
and in turn gave us hell,
"Let's go all you morons,
don't just sit there, I'll tell!"

"On Bobby and Robert
and Bobette and Joe.
and all a you others,
with names I don't know."

Her message delivered,
she vanished from sight,
but we heard her yelling
outside in the night.

She jumped in her Volvo,
to speed outta' there.
but her tires were flattened,
by my children with care.

We spoke not a word,
but went straight to our chore,
deleting Excel files
used by that whore.

"I think Santa did it,
who else could it be?"
I was then interrupted
by a call on line 3.

And over the phone
I could hear Santa yell
"Merry Christmas to all
and to the boss...

Happy Holidays Everybody!
From holiday


Short Title: Texas1


         The Night Before Christmas (Texas Style)
   T'was the night before Christmas, in Texas, you know.
   Way out on the prairie, without any snow.
   Asleep in their cabin, were Buddy and Sue,
   A dreamin' of Christmas, like me and you.
   Not stockings, but boots, at the foot of their bed,
   For this was Texas, what more need be said,
   When all of a sudden, from out of the still night,
   There came such a ruckus, it gave me a fright.
   And I saw 'cross the prairie, like a shot from a gun,
   A loaded up buckboard, come on at a run,
   The driver was "Geein" and "Hawin", with a will,
   The horses (not reindeer) he drove with such skill.
   "Come on there Buck, Poncho, & Prince, to the right,
   There'll be plenty of travelin' for you all tonight."
   The driver in Levi's and a shirt that was red,
   Had a ten-gallon Stetson on top of his head.
   As he stepped from the buckboard, he was really a sight,
   With his beard and moustache, so curly and white.
   As he burst in the cabin, the children awoke,
   And were so astonished, that neither one spoke.
   And he filled up their boots with such presents galore,
   That neither could think of a single thing more.
   When Buddy recovered the use of his jaws,
   He asked in a whisper, "Are you really Santa Claus?"
   "Am I the real Santa? Well, what do you think?"
   And he smiled as he gave a mysterious wink.
   Then he leaped in his buckboard, and called back in his drawl,
   "To all the children in Texas, Merry Christmas, You-all"

   Credit: posted to the UGA humor list by Joe F. Walenciak, Ph.D.


Short Title: Texas2

From: HoofPrints (
Subject: OT: Merry Christmas from Texas. 
Date: 2002-12-10 19:28:02 PST 
The Night Before Christmas ... Texas Style
by Suzann Darnall

'Twas Christmas Eve in Texas, when all 'cross th' ranch,
Not one critter was stirrin', not even a branch;
Th' boot-socks were hung from barbed wire with care,
In hopes that th' tops this year would not tear;

Th' kids were all tucked up like cows in a shed,
While dreamin' of baked goods like cookies and bread;
Mom hung up her Stetson by my worn Resistol,
Took off boots, jeans and belts then in bed we did fall,

When out by th' barn there was all sorts of clangin'
We jumped up right quick to see what was a bangin'.
Grabbed up our rifles and dressed quick like hustlers,
Grabbed ammo 'n' shotguns case it was rustlers.

Moon glow on tin roof shined by sand blowin' hard
Gave enough light for seein' and showed th' farmyard,
We 'uns concluded we was a seein' thangs
Like, an old worn-out stagecoach pulled by eight green-broke mustangs,

With a great big ol' driver, who held a tight rein,
we sure knew right quickly it must be John Wayne.
Much faster than bullets his horses sure came,
Still he whistled, and shouted, and yelled out each name:

"Now Pitchfork! now Pickup! now, Chisum and Dallas!
On, Haybale! on, Hairball! on, Lonestar and Texas!
Right over th' leech field! and on past th' well pump
Now gee-up and yee-haw, git ready to jump!"

Like tumbleweeds scurry when tornadoes whirl by,
When they just go and head skyward, up they sure fly.
Yep, up to th' rooftop them horses strivin',
with that stage full of toys, and th' Duke a drivin'

In just a short moment we heard on th' roof
Th' stomping and stamping of each unshod hoof.
As we threw on our hats, and were heading downstairs,
John Wayne kicked in the front door which fell on two chairs.

Was dressed like a sheriff, from his hat to his boots,
And his clothes were all showin' deep-down western roots;
Saddle bag of toys he had flung 'cross his back,
and small things stuffed in pockets too much for his pack.

His eyes how they squinted! his pistol how gleamin'!
His badge was all shiny, his neck scarf tied streamin'!
His shirt unbuttoned, with th' flap hanging down
And th' jut of his chin was as fierce as his frown;

His rifle he held onto tight in his hand,
'Til he got a good feel for the lay of the land;
He had broad shoulders which carried quite a load in
And shook when he laughed as his face creased with a grin.

He was handsome and tall, a legend come to life,
And we sure liked what we saw both me 'n' th' wife.
Him winkin' at Mom and a noddin' his head
Made us glad we did not get Santa instead.

He drawled a few words, but he mostly just worked,
Filled boot-socks with oranges and meat, spicy-jerked,
And waving his hand in gesture well known,
Crashed through a window just as if he was thrown;

He sprang to his coach, toward his team the whip cracked,
Away they all galloped as if some injuns attacked.
But we all heard him shout, as he started to go,
"Howdy, Pardner, all y'all, saddle up, wagons ho!"


Short Title: TexMex

from LaughWEB (
[LaughWEB is now at
 though the content has been removed]

           Jim and Nita Lee (Dec. 1972)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,
Not a creature ws stirring -- Caramba! ¿Qué pasa?
Los niños were tucked away in their camas,
Some in long underwear, some in pijamas,

While hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado
In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado
To bring all children, both buenos and malos,
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

Outside in the yard there arose such a grito
That I jumped to my feet like a fightened cabrito.
I ran to the window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world do you think that it era?

Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero.
And pulling his sleigh instead of venados
Were eight little burros approaching volados.

I watched as they came and this quaint little hombre
Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:
"Ay Pancho, ay Pepe, ay Cuco, ay Beto,
Ay Chato, ay Chopo, Macuco, y Nieto!"

Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho
He flew to the top of our very own techo.
With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea,

Then huffing and puffing at last in our sala,
With soot smeared all over his red suit de gala,
He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos --
For none of the niños had been very malos.

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,
He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.
And I heard him exclaim, and this is verdad,
Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad!


Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified January 7, 2007